Inefficient
by ravarath
Summary: "When he's stressed, he likes to insult species. Cuts himself shaving, does half an hour on life forms he's cleverer than."


_**A/N: A silly fic inspired by one of my favorite lines from the show. The Tenth Doctor mentioned shaving in "Time Crash" and it made me wonder if he was similar to his Ninth self when dealing with...accidents.**_

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There were certain advantages to living on a sentient ship like the TARDIS, one of them being its ability to anticipate the needs of its passengers. Throw in advanced living facilities, spacious quarters, and a near-endless wardrobe, and Rose couldn't think of a better place to call home. The fact that it was also a time machine didn't hurt either.

And after trekking through alien terrain or surviving yet another intergalactic threat, Rose found herself grateful on a daily basis for the TARDIS. It was practically the perfect home.

At least, that's what she thought until this morning.

"Have you seen this, Rose? It's absolutely ridiculous!"

She sat up groggily in her bed, blinking owlishly at the man in her room. "Doctor? What time is it?" It certainly hasn't felt like her normal eight hours. Rose squinted at the bedside clock. The Doctor was always telling her that such things were useless on a time machine, but Rose still liked to keep it around. Particularly today, as said clock was informing her that it had only been three hours since she dropped off.

"Honestly, Rose," the Doctor continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "I can't believe you humans sometimes. Brilliant in your own primitive, rambling way, and then you invent rubbish things like this."

She squinted at the object he brandished in front of her nose. "Are those my tweezers?"

"Yes! Ridiculous, barbaric, completely not user friendly tweezers!" He gestured with the object vehemently, free hand occasionally raking through his wild brown hair in frustration.

"The tweezers that I'd kept in my makeup kit. From my bathroom."

"All the technological advances your race achieves, and females still find this crude little tool a necessity!" The Time Lord had started to pace, speaking as if he hasn't heard Rose. And with the combined noise of his pacing feet and the steadily rising volume of his voice, perhaps he genuinely didn't.

She rolled her eyes, sitting back. "The tweezers from the makeup kit, in the bathroom that I specifically asked you to leave alone," Rose said resignedly. "Please tell me you didn't sonic anything in there again."

"Do you know what Xannan women use for the removal of body hair? Lasers. Handheld, pinpoint lasers that literally blast a hair follicle out of existence." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Of course, skin cancer is a common ailment on their planet. Honestly, how illogical is that? A laser razor that isn't designed properly? It's an outright shame to the species."

"Of course." Rose mumbled, rubbing at her eyes wearily. She was hoping he would get to a point relatively soon. "But-"

"And don't get me started on Omaitians! Their females actually ingest a whole cocktail of chemicals to control the growth of their bodily hair. How inefficient is that?"

With a groan, Rose dragged the duvet back and looked towards her closet. If the Doctor was going to rant, she might as well fix a cup of tea. Normally, she found their conversations fascinating and quite enjoyable. That said, it was rather difficult to appreciate any sort talk when one was dying for some shut eye.

It was odd; the Doctor normally was fairly good about respecting her 'inefficient human necessities' as he called it. "Doctor-"

"If you think about it, Rose, so many species are terribly underdeveloped in terms of personal hygiene. It's quite appalling, really." The Doctor was still staring fixedly at the tweezers in his hand, looking quite put out.

"Doctor," she repeatedly exasperatedly. "C'mere."

"You lot actually invent a sonic razor by the year 5379, but the resulting patent dispute stopped it from ever being mass produced." He took a couple steps closer, tossing the tweezers onto her dresser with a scoff. "Did you know-"

Rose jabbed a finger at his collar. "What's this?"

He froze. "What-"

"This little speck of red right here," she said, leaning in to peer at it. "Looks like blood."

"It is not!" The Doctor pulled away, frowning.

A sudden realization came over her, and Rose grinned cheekily up at the Time Lord. "Doctor, did you cut yourself shaving again?" She'd almost forgotten about this...tendency of his since he regenerated. But apparently, old habits died hard: insulting every species that came to mind all over a little razor nick.

"It's probably just a spot of jam," he spluttered, turning towards the door. "Completely unacceptable. I better get it into the wash before it stains." The Doctor beat an undignified retreat from the bedroom, closing the door hastily behind him.

With a sigh, Rose plopped back onto the bed. Drawing the duvet back over herself, she grinned broadly as the sound of his footsteps died away.

For all his disdain of the hygiene of 'primitive' and 'inefficient' species, Rose wondered why he didn't have a foolproof, Time Lord method of shaving.


End file.
